One Year

It has been one year today that I let my façade slip away.

I haven't shared the past year with all the people I'd have liked to, but I take solace in having done this not to hurt others, but to stop hurting myself.

I have felt more free and alive than I have ever felt in my life the past year. Oh sure, life continues, money stuff, work stuff, family stuff. I used to have this shield, where I could plough through the roughest times oblivious to everything except my goal. Life became constantly living behind that shield until 4 years ago. Now, I feel connected to life. It hurts more, but the rewards are so much better.

The past year has led to possibly irreparable damage to my family of origin. Initial rejection, being told I was not welcome in my parents' house unless I put on my old act, led to more isolation and friction. My baby sister got married, and there wasn't the remotest possibility of being the part of it I wanted to be. My wife, increasingly frustrated by disrespectful comments and actions, lack of tolerance let alone acceptance, and my own reaction to the situation finally made her feelings known rather viciously, shattering long broken relationships. These days I sit amongst that rubble, catching the odd glimpse of back-chatter vitriol against my wife, against me, angry at all of them.

Despite all this, my year has been amazing. My business celebrated 10 years in January, a huge accomplishment, some wonderfully supportive cousins attended and brought flowers and best wishes from my aunt and uncle who were in Florida. My business is a political centrepiece for high-tech and innovation in the region, they have a flyer for us, and I have spoken at conferences. Five years ago I receded from public view, but burst forth with new energy last fall and not only regained lost ground, but gained so much new ground.

I attended my first wedding shower, alas not for my sister but for my cousin. I felt a little on display, but everyone was at least tolerant and most were wonderful. Even situations that couldn't be avoided like talking about my male childhood were no big deal. Having grown up without any social inclusion as my felt gender, this is one of the things that I've really been looking forward to.

More and more I don't think people realize I'm transgender, which raises a little fear that I'm somehow perpetuating the "transgender deceiver" fiction. It may just be that this fear is echoing the undertone I feel from my family of origin (who "know better"). On the other hand, for the first time in my life people are seeing who I am, and accepting me for that. I had thought the affirmation in this I'd felt years ago when I began going out as my felt gender would diminish over time. I've been surprised that in some respects it has become stronger. Of course, this is only year 1... ask me again at year 10.

I'm volunteering more in situations that matter, my involvement with the community, helping in peer support situations, with youth. I don't know if it's me or what, but there seems to be an outpouring of people who are gaining the courage to question and talk about their gender. Of course, I've stepped into the fountain and turned on the water, maybe I shouldn't be surprised to get wet :) I can only imagine how my life would have been different growing up in today's climate. I refrain from saying these kids have it easier, there is nothing easy about this journey.

My fear of hospitals has receded a little. I caused confusion, but was treated with tremendous respect at Sunnybrook at my cancer follow-up in June. Despite this, I still feel life will be smoother in a body that is more congruous with who I am, especially as I age. I will be proceeding with GRS in the next year, which officially makes me pre-op - gotta love labels.

So time will tell what the next year holds for me. One thing I know for sure, it will be me that greets it.

Oshawa Community Galvanized By Hateful Propaganda

The past week in Oshawa has certainly been a whirlwind of activity in the LGBTQ community. A flurry of news, gatherings, and support unfolded throughout the week.

Here are some facts to set the stage:

On Saturday, March 31st PFLAG Durham Region held an event to raise funds for a Youth Leadership Camp this summer. The event had sold-out quickly and the hall was packed. The mayors of Oshawa, Whitby and Clarington were present, along with several councillors and many others from the local political and business communities. This added to the already bustling room filled with members of the local LGBTQ community and their friends and families.

The Youth Leadership Camp builds self-esteem, coping and leadership skills in our LGBTQ youth and their allies who live in this world that can still be so hostile towards them. The youth for whom this camp is held hear hateful slurs at school from students and even teachers about them or their parents. They suffer physical harassment. They are afraid to use the bathrooms or phys-ed change-rooms. They are told that their feelings are wrong, that they can choose to be “normal”. Within the LGBTQ youth community, suicide is 5 times as likely to be seen as a solution compared to the total population.

At the event, Amy England, an Oshawa city councillor performed on-stage dressed as Bruno Mars and lip-sync’d to “Just the Way You Are” – a song with an inspiring message of self-acceptance.

On Monday April 9th the Oshawa Central newspaper published a front-page headline and two stories that may have been intended to push Councillor England into resigning. However they contained so much hateful language, misinformation, and fear mongering that the LGBTQ community became outraged and galvanized a show of support around her.

Within 24h over social media, we organized enough people to pack the audience at the Oshawa City Council meeting with people showing support for Councillor England. A city council meeting that normally draws 20-30 people drew in I estimate around 150 people that night (I counted heads on a video I took of the room before council began).

Attempts to engage Joe Ingino, the publisher of the Oshawa Central, were met with name calling and flippant responses. My spouse wrote in to express her concerns, and received the following response:

“AND IF YOU CLICK YOUR HEALS THREE TIMES REAL HARD YOU WILL BACK IN KANSAS... ARE YOU INSANE. THE NORMAL POPULATION OF THIS WORLD... WOULD DIFFER WITH YOUR DELUSIONS...”

For the record, my spouse is neither insane nor delusional. However this response is mostly indicative of Mr. Ingino’s engagement with the LGBTQ community over the past week. Inflammatory at least, and even the odd threatening remark.

OK, on to my opinions ☺

It has been a tremendously busy week for me, and I wanted to take the time to organize my thoughts around this whole situation. Several things have been bothering me about it beyond the obvious. But let’s start with the obvious.

First there’s the immediate irony of the situation. Councillor Diamond said it best at the city council meeting, but I will repeat the sentiment here. This camp directly helps our youth deal with the hatred they see in the media, and it is the media that attacked the camp fundraiser, calling it a “freak convention” and claiming it promotes “alternative lifestyles”. This situation is a shining example of why we need to be doing this.

PFLAG as an organization exists to support everyone, both within the LGBTQ spectrum and those who struggle to accept people that identify as such. If you attend a sharing meeting you will find a nonjudgmental community full of people who have struggled their way through to acceptance, or are somewhere along that path. If you really want to kick a hornets’ nest, try telling a PFLAG Mom that she and her child are freaks and delusional. That’s right, stand right there between mamma bear and her cub…

I am so impressed with how well the LGBTQ community in Oshawa has handled itself. Our impromptu meetings the past week have been supportive to those who have felt threatened, and productive in focusing on peaceful and positive responses.

The next point that bothered me throughout the week is something that I still find is a broad misconception.

In the articles, and in much of Mr. Ingino’s social media correspondence, the popular myth that sexual orientation and gender identity are psychological disorders. This is often closely followed by the myth that as such they can be cured through psychological reparative therapy.

This is a politically charged and polarizing issue that has lead to a complicated and difficult to navigate landscape of academic vs. quacademic research, opinion from both sides and personal anecdotes. Research is also strongly influenced by reluctance to direct funding to politically charged topics.

It doesn’t take a lot of effort on Google to find seemingly compelling materials for either side. Thankfully the medical community doesn’t use Google.

Homosexuality was removed from the American Psychiatric Association’s DSM (Diagnostic and Statistics Manual) in 1975 for the simple reason that scientists realized that it shouldn’t be there. The 5th edition of the DSM will also remove Gender Identity Disorder again for the simple reason that it isn’t a pathology, and it shouldn’t be there.

The view that people in the LGBTQ spectrum are there because of a psychological disorder is simply out-dated. Science has moved on, as it always does, and uncovered new truths.

No amount of “promotion” will cause someone to suddenly identify within the LGBTQ spectrum. Identifying within this spectrum isn’t a “lifestyle”. Claiming that the fundraiser “promotes alternative lifestyles” is misleading and perpetuates the myth.

We need to get better at educating the public, and funding the research.

And finally, this has raised more confusion around the public’s already murky understanding of what transgender is and is not.

I don’t want to get into the transgender umbrella issues, let’s just pretend that everyone in the trans community agrees that the term “transgender” identifies all of us with a gender identity or expression that may vary occasionally or permanently from what our birth certificate says. If you believe transsexual should not be considered transgender, please indulge me for a moment.

A “drag king” falls under the transgender umbrella. A drag king may have been born female but performs as a male. This is not related to their gender identity, this is gender expression. A drag king may identify anywhere along the sexuality or gender identity spectrum.

Councillor England for one evening, for the first time in her life, performed as a drag king, and had fun doing it. It doesn’t mean anything about her sexuality, or her gender identity.

The controversial paper outright claimed that this performance was something that brought shame to the community, to the point where Councillor England had no choice but to resign. That somehow she had betrayed the trust in her elected position. That somehow, fully clothed and emulating Bruno Mars likened her to a stripper. That somehow, taking a donation from someone’s mouth with her teeth – which she did twice in good sport – was a “gesture that resembled an intimate kiss”.

One of the articles even goes to say she was “pretending to be a transgender person”, and “attempts to parody a sensitive lifestyle” right before it likens her to a “cheap crack hooker” in need of “some mental health care”.

I’m really getting tired of the word “lifestyle”, it implies choice which, never mind common sense, the science dispels. Parody? She’s imitating Bruno Mars, not making fun of trans people. Pretending to be transgender? To borrow a meme, one does not simply pretend to be transgender.

Next week we are holding a rally at Oshawa City Hall on Wednesday at 7:00pm. If you’re on Facebook, please join the event here.

We will show again and again, that love, not hatred is what drives this community. Neither we nor our allies are freaks. We are unwilling to accept hateful rhetoric in the media. And finally we are unwilling to engage in hurtful name-calling nor subject ourselves to this as has happened when some of us have attempted to engage Mr. Ingino over the past week.

If you want to read more about what's been going on this week, and other people's perspectives, please visit http://www.nohate.ca/

My "Herstory"

Today I spoke with 4 other women for International Women's Day at Durham College. My speech follows:

Philosophy

Think of the colour blue. Now look around, how do you know that everyone is imagining the same colour? How do you know that the blue you see in your mind isn't your neighbour's orange?

This basic philosophical question shows the difficulty in understanding and communicating gender identity. How do you know what it's like to feel like a woman, or a man, when all you experience is what it feels like to be you.

The Checklist

The earliest memories I can recall when I knew something was different about me were when I was around 10. I didn't realize it then, but that's when I started my checklist. It started very short: Penis? check. Only boys had a penis. When I was a teenager, my checklist expanded: Attracted to girls? check. Only boys like girls. Something didn't feel right, but I didn't dare tell anyone because it was clearly wrong, and I didn't want to get in trouble. I was already teased and bullied for being different, some of my classmates were sure I was gay. I had no words for how I felt, and I couldn't explain it to myself let alone explain it to others.

For the first chapter of my life, when my entire world assumed and reinforced that boys only like girls, girls only like boys, and everyone's gender matched the sex on their birth certificate. I was confused, and receded, but back then they called me “the quiet kid”.

I spent most of my teenage years holed up in my bedroom on my computer desperate to understand something if I couldn't understand myself. I had a small group of friends with open minds and an academic interest and that drew me to university. Far away from home, I experienced freedom and for the first time in my life I could express myself in the privacy of my tiny apartment. I was compelled to cross-dress, but I had no idea why. I tried so hard to bury the young man that I saw in the mirror under makeup and clothes. What I was doing was clearly wrong, I mean, that's what my checklist said. If anyone found out I would at least be made fun of, probably beat up, maybe worse. I was so deathly afraid and ashamed, I purged several times - that is, I threw away everything feminine I'd gathered – and newly resolved to "do better".

I met Sharon, my soul mate, when I was 24. While I told her about my compulsion, and she thought it was odd, we found our way through it by keeping it private. I was lost in love, and resolved that I would be the man the checklist said I should be. For Sharon, and her young daughter. And I was, for the first 10 years we were together - we got married, had two more daughters, and got caught up in life.

But during this my checklist was falling into disarray. The cut and dry answers from my adolescence muddied by more sophisticated questions as I matured, I had no clear answers. I was an early pioneer on the Internet, and once I gathered the courage, the free exchange of ideas and information that it provided gave me a place to challenge my checklist. I found many words and ideas, and spent years learning about them and learning how I related to them. My self-identity evolved to cross-dresser, which almost fit. I was afraid then to self-identify as transsexual. It seemed … unachievable. Male cross-dressers are typically attracted to women, and enjoy expressing femininity, like me – I could make it fit. I was still clinging to my checklist, trying to be a man. I remained receded, but back then we called it "workaholic".

The Catalyst

Then, my world imploded. In January 2008, I went to the walk-in clinic with what I hoped was a bad case of gas. Turns out a tumour had burst my appendix, and I was sent by ambulance to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy. Sharon and our oldest daughter were in Michigan on a group bus trip. Fear tore Sharon apart as she struggled to find a way home, her cell phone battery failing, as she helplessly waited for any word that I was OK.

I pulled through, but the doctor had no idea what it was, had never seen anything like it, and had my entire family freaked out. Over months we went from doctor to doctor until we found a specialist at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto. It was a rare form of cancer, one in a million, which had spilled into my abdomen when the tumour burst my appendix.

I was given two options. I could live likely 5 good years with my family. Or I could undergo a risky and experimental procedure in Halifax that could kill me, but had an excellent chance of eliminating the cancer. I was young, healthy, and not ready to resign myself or subject my family to 5 years of decline and a predicted demise. Sharon and I chose Halifax.

It was a year in between my appendectomy and my cancer surgery. As you can imagine, our family drew together. Sharon and I, after years of our marriage on cruise-control were deeply reminded of how we felt about each other. And I realized, that I did not want to live more of my life without understanding who I was. I finally overcame my fear and talked to my doctor, and she got me an appointment the following summer with the gender clinic at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health in Toronto.

The cancer surgery was grueling. 17 hours on the table. They took out all kinds of optional body parts - my spleen, part of my liver, gall-bladder, omentum (belly fat), half my colon, scraped the lining off the inside of my abdomen, took out some lymph nodes, filled my abdomen with chemo fluid, heated it and "stirred" me for two hours, and stapled me back up. I was a month in the hospital and another 3 at home in bed recovering. [You can read more about it here]

When I recovered, I found a switch had gone off. I couldn't hold back. Sharon and I began getting involved in the trans community, monthly group dinner outings around Toronto, trans conferences in Ontario and the US. We slowly began to get over her and my intense fear of ridicule and discovery, leaving the house and facing the public. We came out to our daughters. I went through intake at the Gender Identity Clinic at CAMH, got my medical "stamp" of Gender Identity Disorder, and got involved in their group therapy. Then later Sharon and I went through separate programs at the Sherbourne Health Clinic, Gender Journeys and the Trans Partner Network.

Through two years of all this, we met so many wonderful people. We met people in the community of all ages and at every place in the trans spectrum, we met couples who like us were struggling to embrace this, and were inspired by couples who were actually making it through. And I finally came to accept the facts that had stood in front of me my whole life, that my brain knew, but my heart hadn't accepted.

The Epiphany

Feel free to say, "duh!", face-palm, along with me here…

Some girls like girls. Some girls are geeks. Some girls like computers, motorcycles. Some girls drive big trucks. Some are tall. Some have broad shoulders. Some girls are even born with a penis. Women come in all shapes and sizes, and not one aspect makes them any less of a woman. I realized my checklist was rubbish. I finally accepted who I am - the woman standing before you today.

You don't transition alone, everyone around you, spouse, children, siblings, parents, all have their own journey they need to take along the path of acceptance. Theirs is as complicated as yours. It takes time, some are more willing than others, and some may never reach it. Today, some around me cling to the thought that "the cancer made me crazy", others cling to their memory of the façade I presented when I pretended to be what everyone expected me to be. Some believe I was seduced into this “lifestyle” by the secular trans and medical community, and some still hope that I will quietly slip back into my cage and forget all about this.

The Pot of Gold

I transitioned in-place in the summer of 2011, after 30 years of struggle, three and a half years after my cancer discovery, 2 years of professional counseling, and 3 years of engagement with the transgender community.

Today, Sharon and I live a normal life as a same sex couple, our daughters have two moms. Much of my extended family supports me, even if they don't understand, and the family that doesn't yet support me continue along their own journey, hopefully towards acceptance. I continue to run my software development business in Oshawa, well received by my staff, our customers, and our peers.

I remain an out and visible trans-woman in the community in hopes that my presence will inspire others to accept themselves, that I might meet and help others like me. That people will see that a trans-woman isn’t what they saw in that movie, TV show, or commercial. That I might be able to help change society to be a less scary place for those who struggle like I did. Because nobody should need the Cancer experience, or wait 30 years to overcome the fear of being who they are.

A Sad Feeling

Something happened today that took me off-guard. It's not the first time something like this has happened, but today I decided to write about it.

Sharon was cleaning up some clutter, and came across a cross-stitch project that she did to commemorate our wedding in '95. It's almost complete, and just needs a few more stitches.

But we wondered what to do with it.

You see, it has my old name, and depicts a smartly dressed man and a woman in a beautiful flowing dress, with a flower girl behind scattering petals.

I almost cried as we decided it should just be put away for now. It took Sharon a couple years to stitch, and it commemorates one of the happiest events of my life - our marriage - which is sacred and dear to me.

From a practical perspective, it's difficult to frame and hang because it reminds me of a time I was trying desperately to be someone else. A time during which I had put away discovering who I was in order to start a new life with my soul-mate, her daughter, and our new beautiful baby girl.

I don't want to hide who I was. My life to this point had so many things that were good. Hiding them hides a part of who I am today.

Part of me wishes I had come to terms with my gender so long ago. But when?

If I'd done so while a teenager, I'm sure I would have been at CAMH for shock therapy in the '80s so I could get "fixed".

If I'd done so while in university I'd have truly been alone - being in a remote city, with no family or friends nearby, at a time when transgender wasn't even a word.

If I'd done so early in my relationship with Sharon, I'm not sure our relationship would have made it through. Not that she didn't know something was up with me, but what I knew about myself then was something she felt she could deal with.

If I'd done so early my professional career, I'm not sure we'd have survived financially. Those were hard enough years due to trying to raise a family on only one (not so great) income.

And that brings us to now, where I'm quite pleased with how my transition has been going.

However I've gathered half a lifetime of fond memories in the wrong gender. They make me happy, and sad, and will continue to bring tears as long as I have them.

Retrospective on 2011

All I can say is "wow"...

In 2009 I realized, after 30 years of learning to accept myself, that I needed to transition. 2011 marks my social transition, I could not hold back any longer. There are still many milestones to achieve, but I am finally living my life authentically. No more hiding who I am, pretending to be what others think I should be.

At the end of 2009, I underwent the final surgery wrapping up my knock-down drag-out fight with cancer. I'm in good health, down to annual ultrasounds to watch for signs of any return. Now I look back on that chapter of my life and take it as a learning experience. Live your life, no excuses. Know how happy and blessed we are to have it.

In 2010 the theme was prepping for transition. I started taking hormones (estrogen and an anti-androgen), and I told my close family to give them some time to get used to the idea. I regret that I initially picked such a long timeline (my spouse and I thought 5 years would be reasonable), as often happens when you try and predict the future, it just doesn't work out the way you think.

At the beginning of 2011, our youngest daughter came out as lesbian - and this tilted our world sideways a little. Protecting her socially from my transition was overshadowed by supporting and preparing her for her own emergence. It seemed silly in hindsight to try and hide this from our children's school-mates, the school they attend is a very positive place compared to many other high schools in our area. We got involved with our local PFLAG chapter, and that was an incredible place to find friends and support for her and us.

In January I started coming out to friends, closest friends first, key folks at the office, then the entire office, and by July I made the announcement to all friends and family that I was going full-time in August. I got back so many wonderful letters of support, some from areas of the family I didn't expect. It was an incredibly emotional time for me, so many joyful tears.

My parents struggled the whole year, and continue to struggle. This is moving so fast for them, but I couldn't hold back. As some trans folks describe it, my bell rang, and I had to sprint forward. To continue living the lie that was my old life went against everything I stand for. Courage, responsibility, being true to yourself and the world. Now more than ever my daughters, especially my youngest, need a strong role model. I have to live my life the way I want them to live theirs, to show them how to be strong and compassionate.

My spouse and I have found friends through the local LGBT community, and we're coming to terms with the idea that our relationship is no longer the universally accepted male-female one. That the simple act of holding hands is now a magnet for drawing hatred from those who believe same-sex marriage is wrong. However I realize most people support us, and I know what the barriers I build in front of myself look like now. This year will be the year we break through this.

Transitioning at work was a total non-issue. The team was caught off guard at first by my new mostly unpracticed voice, but that came around in time. The office is just business as usual, which is awesome. Other people in the building have also been very supportive, and I'm enjoying making new friends.

My old male friendships have mostly fallen away now. Not by any specific intent, I could say that they'd mostly fallen away in 2010. While I'm sad that it has happened this way, I wonder what we have in common now.

I planned going full-time in Aug because some key family events passed in July and that would give folks time before Christmas (the next big family event) to get used to the idea of me. I initially planned for just a small Christmas, just my spouse and the kids and her parents on Christmas day. However, a very supportive cousin invited me to her place for a Christmas eve tradition that my Dad's side of the family has always had. It was a wonderful time to introduce myself to my cousins, and we had a fun family evening of visiting and conversation. Being out, having some of our traditional Ukrainian foods, and feeling part of our extended family completely put me in the Christmas spirit this year.

My parents and middle sister retreated to Florida this year over Christmas for the first time. Normally we'd have seen my Dad's side of the family on Christmas Eve at my parents' house, and my Mom's side of the family on Christmas Day also at their house, which had them preparing two entire Christmas dinners for 20 plus people each day. This has been getting overwhelming for them as they get older, but I can't help thinking that they also ran away a little to avoid dealing with me. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. 2011 also marks the year I discovered contemplative prayer, and despite being rejected by the Catholic church, I try to maintain a quiet personal relationship with God and pray often for my parents, family and friends.

So here I am, day 1 of 2012, looking forward to the year ahead. New friendships, new milestones, and hopefully some good progress in family relations. 2011 was energizing, and I feel like a weight has been lifted from me. I've never felt so good in all my life.